Zone Hopping
by michellewritesfics
Summary: Henry Hamilton meets up with the Minutemen at a bar in Dayton. Things don't go as well as he hoped. Oneshot.


A/N: First of all, I cannot believe Matt came out. UGH, BABE. NOW I WILL HAVE NO CHANCE TO TAP THAT. Second, this film was mediocre. I only watched it for the pretty people. /superficial

This fic is pre-movie and it mainly focuses on an encounter with Henry and the Minutemen. Mainly headcanon, and you know what headcanons do to you~

Pairings: hint of Fortis/Henry, hint of Henry/Sylvia

* * *

He was stuck in Dayton. Heavily populated. Though, the death toll made up for the number of people.

He was enjoying himself. A different kind of enjoyment from when he was at New Greenwich. Back there, he was having the most fun. Poker, clubs, all that jazz. He'd meet people and he'd grant them with goodies. Here? It was always the bar. Henry continued giving others goodies, which would be alcohol. Though, the feeling was very different. He was drinking himself to oblivion. To numb the pain. Back in New Greenwich, he wasn't even capable of feeling the pain. He was showered with treasures and nifty things to keep his pain at bay.

Henry had a long life. He became aware of everything. The madness of this lifestyle and the system. This strange time-as-money system. It led to him running from Greenwich and settling in Dayton. It just seemed so… perfect. So fitting.

Stuck in a bar, Henry was offering free drinks to anyone around. He just didn't care. Everyone called up their friends and told them to meet up at the pub, which grouped in more people to waste his time on. He wouldn't do this in New Greenwich. The only person he would've used his time on would have been Sylvia Weis, a good friend of his. But she's not around with him any longer. Henry's all alone. Alone in this goddamn bar.

Everything was great. Really. He was numbing the pain. He was having fun, albeit, not the fun he had expected, but it had to do. But then a scream echoed into his ears and turned his head to the source, but the scream was stopped by a gunshot. A dim thud was heard and the bar became quiet. Henry jumped in his head, holding tightly onto the glass he's possessing. He saw a group. An infamous group. Pretty popular for taking time away from others. The Minutemen.

The place wasn't quiet for long. Soon, everything went into chaos and multiple gunshots were heard. Though, nobody was shot. One of the Minutemen was shooting at the ceiling, signaling the inhabitants of the bar to stay put and shut up. They did as told and the leader of the group, a blonde named Fortis, sauntered over to Henry with a gun in one hand. "Hello, darling."

Locking his eyes on Fortis, Henry responded, "hi." He saw Fortis' gaze drop down to his arm, revealing his time. A few hundred years. He still didn't keep his eyes off him. He didn't want, just in case Fortis would do something to him.

"That's a nice clock you got there, huh?" Fortis transfixed his eyes only on Henry's arm. "Boys, why don't you evacuate everyone from the bar? Take what you want. I'll have this guy," he called out and heard his companions tell everyone except for Henry to exit out of the pub. Fortis took a seat left of Henry. "You've got nice taste. And I'm not just talking about your drink." His eyes flickered from his prey's watch to the attire of his. It was simple. He liked it. Simple, yet elegant. Though, it would be simple back at New Greenwich. Henry was dressed in a three-piece suit, accompanied with a dark red tie. Henry had his sleeves folded up to his elbows, showing his time. Probably a bad idea.

"Listen, why don't you just leave me alone?" Henry tipsily retorted back, taking a large gulp from his glass. He shifted in his suit a bit, adjusting his waistcoat buttons. He had stumbled upon the Minutemen in the past, which resulted him to hop from zone to zone for a little while. Crinkling his nose when Fortis skimmed his eyes at him, Henry checked at Fortis' attire. Just like him, Fortis was wearing a suit. A chalky colored one, no less. Though, he had a black dress shirt underneath, which complimented the rest of his clothes.

Fortis looked back, seeing the door of the bar was closed. The bartender had bailed along with the other people. It was just the two of them. Brilliant. He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, draping an arm lazily over Henry's neck, pulling him close, which nearly caused Henry to collapse into him. Luckily, Fortis pushed him back so the other male could settle in his seat. "I want your watch. Is that all too much to ask for? You don't have to run away from me. I'm harmless."

"Says the man that gathers up criminals to take time from others," Henry, again, snapped back in a bitter tone. Though, beneath all the bitterness and hostility he had for Fortis and the Minutemen, he truly wished they would just _take _his goddamn time instead of following him and insisting it. Because well, Henry would never allow himself to succumb to agreeing with it. "And that wields a gun. How much did that cost?" He lowered his eyes to look at the gun in Fortis' hand.

"You want it? To protect yourself from baddies like me? Here you go," he offered the weapon to Henry by taking Henry's drink and replacing it with the gun. The blonde Brit guzzled down the rest of Henry's drink and placed it on the counter. Though, the offer wasn't accepted, for he saw Henry move the gun toward him. "What?"

Henry shook his head. "I don't want it. What I do want is for you to leave me alone." He nearly said it with a whimper, but refused to, just to conceal his vulnerability.

"You're no fun." Fortis scoffed, scratching the tip of his nose. "Okay. How about I just take your time? Just a little? And you can run off like the little bunny you are." He's teasing and he wanted to make it known. Fortis saw Henry give a tiny scoff with a shake of his head. "I don't want to harm you," he added, clutching back to the gun. He switched the gun into his other hand, leaving his left hand open. "Come on. Please?" Generosity never suited him. Though, Fortis would do what he must to gain as much time as he pleased. He toyed his fingers along with Henry's, who reacted to it by closing his hand into a fist. "Come on now."

The drunk brown-haired man managed to break out a groan. He was getting tired of it. He just wanted Fortis gone. He didn't want to give him his time anymore. All he wanted was to do whatever he wished without the Minutemen following his footsteps. Getting up from his seat, Henry started to walk away from his conversational partner, swaying faintly with each step.

Fortis, on the other hand, didn't do anything. He just sat there and watched Henry make a complete fool out of himself. An amused smile etched on his face when he witnessed Henry bump into the doorframe as he tried to exit. "Mate, you need any help?" Fortis heard a sharp decline from the other end. "Right," he muttered to himself and got up from the seat, walking over to Henry. He guided Henry out of the bar - which was much more difficult than he thought, considering by the amounts of scratching and hitting Henry had done - and shoved Henry away from him. "That wasn't really nice." He commented bluntly, tending to his tiny injuries.

"I don't _care_," Henry responded, rolling his eyes. The streets were empty for once, though, that could be due to the Minutemen probably advising the Dayton individuals where to go. He looked up, seeing the blue-black sky blanket over their heads. In attempts to leave the place, Henry shuffled his feet, trying to keep his balance. Unfortunately, his balance was disturbed by a mass that attached itself to him. Fortis. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he tried to move away from the Minutemen leader. "What?"

"You're going to be fun to track down." Fortis bared his teeth when he addressed a smile. He slung an arm over Henry's neck and pressed his face close to the other man's, his mouth navigating to Henry's ear. "See you, mate," he whispered into his ear as if it were some kind of secret and plucked himself away from Henry swiftly.

Henry heard Fortis' footsteps echo in the seemingly abandoned streets of Dayton until he could barely hear the pitter-patter of his shoes. Finally. He had some alone time. All to himself. Twirling his head around aimlessly, Henry broke out a sigh. He needed some time to waste, because really, that's all he had ever done recently. And without the bar members in his sight, Henry deduced that the Minutemen mooks had taken care of them and their time while he and Fortis were talking. "Great." A sharp inhale followed and he drunkenly shuffled his way back to his motel. To waste some time. To waste every year, every month, every day, every hour, every freaking _second_ he had on his clock.

And if the Minutemen wouldn't take his time by the time Henry would get sick of it, he'd find his own way to clock out.


End file.
